The Vampire and Good and Evil

Does good vs evil personify itself in modern society by chance or design? The prevalence of the vampire and Dracula in particular, in our modern culture deserves some comment. What are the reasons for the inundation of films and literature featuring these creatures? How have they infiltrated our consciousness as primary figures in the battle of good and evil? Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series rivals Harry Potter for the most successful (financially) ever - and this is in both print and film; it was not so long ago that Buffy the Vampire Slayer appeared on prime time Television; and that is not to mention Anne Rice and Tom Cruise as the effete Vampire Lestat. A visit to a bookshop reveals that there is hardly a book written for young adults these days that doesn’t feature vampire protagonists – indeed whole sections are set apart for ‘Vampire Fiction’, similar to thriller, romance and other categories.

So there can be no argument that Western civilization is in thrall to these covens of the un-dead. But what is the fascination; how do they fit into our concepts of good and evil? Some may argue it is but a fluke of chance; that there is no underlying meaning to it. This, remember is the age of reality TV, where fame may be thrust impartially on any undeserving shoulders. These same people may do their research and note that in the 18^th century, European communities were reported to fall prey to episodes of mass hysteria focussed on fear of falling prey to vampires. But those were different times with a different good and evil, and that vampire was a very different beast to today’s aristocratic apparition.

The theory that I would like to put forward to account for this infatuation is that the vampire represents a reflection of a malaise of alienation that is sweeping western civilization like a plague. Before you dismiss the idea out of hand allow me to explain myself: the concept of alienation is a curious one; it means to be divorced from your true self; it is a defence mechanism against hurt too grievous and inexplicable to be born – so the self, with no other recourse, separates from its true (hurt) self. Now it is a precondition of alienation that the alienated person cannot know that they are alienated; to do so would render the alienation ineffective in its purpose which is to protect the personality from the hurt.

So if we consider the possibility that alienation is increasing – think Generation X, Y, Z etc. - then it follows that on the whole we would be blind to it; but intuitively, I would suggest, we must necessarily have retained an inkling, or intimation of it. Included in such an intimation would be the important realisation that alienation is not an indication of good and evil, it is just a defence mechanism.

Now let us look at the characteristics of the vampire, and wonder whether this sophisticated, bloodthirsty conceit does not in fact provide an image that allows us some honesty about our otherwise shallow and perilously dishonest state.

Firstly, a vampire can not see its reflection in the mirror; it is blind to its condition. A better analogy for alienation it would be hard to conceive.

Secondly, a vampire can not bear the honest glare of the sun - it burns. The sun has since time immemorial been used in all religions and philosophies as the symbol of God, of which our Soul, as Wordsworth recognized, is a part. For someone cut off from their true self or Soul (and perhaps even at war with it – see point the third), such a reminder will be unbearable, and they may well prefer the discrete caress of the velvet night.

Finally let us discuss the unsavoury practice of drinking the blood of innocents in order to survive. How does this fit within my hypothesis? This seems to represent a very clear demarcation of good vs evil. In order to address this, let me employ a theory I have recently come across on a website for an organisation called the World Transformation Movement. In it, an Australian biologist Jeremy Griffith theorizes that the intellect, through evolutionary necessity, was so unbearably (and unfairly) goaded by its conscience that without understanding of the cause of this provocation, it must necessarily take up arms against it. Others must debate the truth or otherwise of Griffith’s theory, but it suits my present purposes admirably, so I shall employ it here. Through its prism, again I am able to suggest that the image of the vampire, necessarily divorced from its true self, and only able to maintain this enervating and artificial divorce through constantly preying on innocence, is the perfect image of the animosity between intellect and conscience.